Nature's Masterpiece
by musicnotes093
Summary: Tony goes on a journey after experiencing a tragedy to find a missing piece of his family. Tim assists him along the way, despite a sudden revelation that would cause him to question all the things he's known.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** "Nature's Masterpiece"  
**Rating:** T  
**Genre:** Drama, Family, Friendship  
**Pairing(s):** multiple het pairings will be present if you squint, but it's going to be mainly McGiva  
**Summary:** Tony goes on a journey after experiencing a tragedy to find a missing piece of his family. Tim assists him along the way, despite a sudden revelation that would cause him to question all the things he's known.  
**Notes:** Written for ChibiEarth! The story would mostly focus on Tony and the DiNozzo family dynamics (through recollection). I haven't really done too much Tony stories, but I hope this would still be enjoyable. Proceed with caution, though, especially the starting chapters, as it would deal with sensitive moments like suicide.

**WARNING:** minor character death, Season 10 spoilers

* * *

_"The family is one of nature's masterpieces."_  
_-George Santayana_

* * *

**Chapter One**

A person could easily mistake Dr. Saab Shroyer for an insolent man. He had those thick, Tom Selleck eyebrows that constantly knitted just above the thin rims of his glasses. His eyes were the intimidating shade of gray, its focus unfaltering. His lips wrought into a pensive pout whenever he examined. He used a stern and undeniable tone every time he spoke.

He was rarely amiable towards others.

"Did you understand what I said, Mr. DiNozzo?"

Dr. Shroyer sat up straighter, as if poising to strike.

"Um…" He shook his head in disbelief.

Yet with the way his head tilted to the right in the smallest degree, the way he took a deep breath then sighed heartily, the middle-aged doctor allowed a change in that misconception.

"Would you like a moment to yourself?"

Anthony DiNozzo Sr. laughed softly. "No, no," he said. "Why would I? It's…It's something to be expected, right?"

Dr. Shroyer said nothing.

"I just…I don't understand."

"Your family history factored in along with your past habits, Mr. DiNozzo—" he stopped himself short.

He wanted to say it. He knew that, but it was better that he didn't.

"Look," the doctor began again. "No matter how bad it seems, this situation is not hopeless. There are many people, many facilities out there that could help. I can refer you to the best ones."

"Oh, doctor, I don't need that," he smiled. "I'm perfectly fine. Can't you give me something to take instead? Wouldn't that help? I'm sure Junior wouldn't mind springing a little more for me, if it's necessary."

Dr. Shroyer slowly shook his head. "I can prescribe a few for you, but sooner or later we would have to face the options we have," he said. "I could schedule a quick visit for you in two days. Maybe you can bring your son?"

He exerted considerable effort to widen his smile. "Come on. He doesn't need to be bothered with things like these. I'll be just fine!"

"What if you have another one of those incidents again, Anthony? Doesn't it scare you what could happen the next time?"

He stood up with another soft laugh, brushing the doctor off by taking out and putting on his sports coat. "I'll be okay. Just like the other times," he answered for good measure. Looking up, he saw a displeased expression on the doctor's face. "Why don't I try those medicines first, and I give you my word: if nothing changes in two weeks, I would bring Junior here so we can talk it out. How's that?"

Dr. Shroyer stared at him, as if discerning the seriousness of his patient's suggestion. His jaws softly locked before he spoke. "Alright," he said. "But only two weeks. Nothing more."

He extended a hand, coupling it with a graceful grin. "Thank you for your understanding, Dr. Shroyer," he said as the physician hesitantly shook his hand.

"Two weeks from now, Anthony."

"Yes. I won't forget," he promised as he made his way out of the room. "Goodbye."

He closed the door promptly to make sure that the doctor would not get any more word in. He took a moment, his hand still on the cold knob, his grin weakening, to let the conversation sink in before turning on his heels to head for the hospital lobby.

He had always known that choices had consequences, but he guessed that the inevitability of those, when coming into fruition, doesn't seem realistic from afar off. He should have been smarter. He had foreseen this happening a long time ago, only that the outcome was much different and less painful and humiliating. Yet, he chose to ignore it, and the only one who would be left to suffer was someone he cared about.

How could he be as reckless as this?

He was not even sure how he would tell his son about it. Doing that would mean telling everything, from that first time when he had found himself being unable to identify a place he had been to many times before to the most recent one, when a neighbor had to help him get inside his own apartment because he had no idea what a key was and what it does. He did not want that. He did not want to cross that already fine line of asking for favors and being a nuisance.

"Mr. DiNozzo?"

He turned towards the person and smiled. He checked his watch. "Agent McGee," he said. "What brings you by?"

"Oh. Uh, you, actually," the young man answered. "Tony's a bit busy, and he's asked me to pick you up."

"Alright," he said. He grinned. "I'm taking it that Ziva is with you?"

"No," he said. "She was coming, but she got called up the last minute."

"Hm. I was really looking forward to seeing her," he said. He sighed. "Alright. Shall we?"

The young man nodded and led the way to the car. Being driven around was not something he minded as much. That was one of the easier stories he told, that he couldn't quite drive because he had forgotten his license at home.

He came to Washington under the reason that he was feeling ill and wanted to see his son. It wasn't a lie; he was. Still, all he said was that he suspected he had caught it while he was visiting a friend oversees. His son, being that he was, insisted that he was checked out anyways, not knowing that his father had been to three other doctors who arrived at the same prognosis.

He accepted the offer out of the vague hope that it would be something different this time around.

Having to hear it the fourth time didn't change the difficulty of accepting it. In fact, it made it harder and his denial increased. How could things be so when his mind was still perfectly good? He didn't doubt that he could describe the buildings, the trees, and the people they passed by on their way back with accuracy. In the short time he spent there, he was knowledgeable with a few of the areas.

He could even describe Tim to another person who didn't know him, starting with the young man's kindly green eyes that reminded him so much of Robert's gentle ones on those instances when he wasn't upset.

Although, sooner or later, Tony would have to know the truth. He wished he was much more capable at this, and he wished he would have given his child more reason to put up with the news he was about to receive.

"You're staying at Tony's, right, Mr. DiNozzo?" Tim asked.

He considered it. "No," he said. "I think I'm going to go back to the hotel for tonight. I have something that I need to do before I can see Tony."

The young man nodded. "Alright." He frowned lightly after he thought about it. "Are you sure?"

He smiled genuinely because of the concern shown. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?" he asked.

"I don't know. I…I just wanted to make sure everything's alright," he answered.

He could tell he was worried that he was intruding, but honestly he didn't think that was so. "I appreciate your asking," he said, hoping that it would put him at ease.

It didn't take them any longer to arrive at the hotel. He got out punctually, although many thoughts continued to weigh down on his mind.

"Mr. DiNozzo?" he heard the young man call him when he was halfway towards the entrance.

"Yes?"

"Are you sure that there's nothing I could do for you?"

He smiled. He really did remind him of Robert.

"Just take care of yourself, Junior," he said.

Tim's frown deepened. "Take care of Tony?" he asked.

It stung to be corrected, but he harbored no resentment. It was his fault, not the boy's. His decision made up of what he had to do, he nodded. "Take very good care of him," he said before going on his way.

Perhaps it was a drastic move, but after that he couldn't really imagine staying any longer. He couldn't put the burden that had accumulated because of his callous moves on Tony. Despite all that his actions and inactions had implied before, he did care about his child's happiness.

At least in that respect, he was a decent father.

When he came inside his room, he headed straight to the mini bar to pour himself a glass of red wine that was given to him as a farewell gift by a close friend years ago. Then, he settled on the desk, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, and then mulled over the right words to say to his son.

"It's time for him to know, Isabella," he thought out loud after a sigh. "I'm sorry I waited this long."

When he finished, he walked over to the window and watched the city outside. The sun was shining its brightest, and everything was moving quickly beneath it. He wondered how it would look like when time stands still that night, if it ever would. Washington was a beautiful place, and he knew that somewhere in there was his son.

He was glad that they were together in it even just for a while.

* * *

_to be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING:** sensitive scene ahead, Season 10 spoilers (disclaimer at my profile page)

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**Chapter Two**

Tony strode through the tranquil hall with a lackadaisical pace, fighting the urge to blow a breath for what seemed like the fifth time. It was well into the night—a few minutes before the eleventh hour, to be exact—, and he did not really want to be bothered by checking on his father who was probably already asleep.

The workday had been long and, frankly, exhausting. A Navy commander had been alleged with smuggling illegal drugs on ship, which was found out through the death by overdose of a young Lieutenant. The suspect had gone off the radar. It translated to a game of hide-and-seek throughout the day that didn't really produce the ideal outcome.

He was tired. The next day was another battle, and he really wanted to have the energy to keep up with it.

"Are you sure he called?" Tim asked.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes. Tim," he said. "I called him on our way to Flack's house, and I talked to him. You can even ask Ziva."

"Okay."

Tony chuckled in irritation. "I couldn't believe you dragged me into this," he mumbled disappointingly.

His father had come in a few days ago, quite unexpected as usual, under the guise that he was not feeling his best. Given, his lightly forlorn behavior and eagerness to see him had gotten him worried enough to recommend him to a doctor. However, he could not help but remain wary. He had always known his father as a conman, more so as of late, and it was very rare that his visits did not come with a hidden agenda. So far, there had been nothing to warrant any suspicion or embarrassment.

Yet, if he was to dig deeper on his superficial prejudice of his father's visit, he would find himself hoping for this one time to be genuinely out of his father's interest to spend time with him.

"I don't know why you're even worried about my dad," he said, darting Tim a look. "I'm sure he's fine."

"I told you," Tim reasoned exasperatedly. "He looked bothered earlier. I just wanted to make sure he's okay."

Tony stopped abruptly as they reached the door. He knocked. "Instead of worrying about mine, you should keep your mind on yours," he said. "How is he doing, by the way?"

Tim shifted uncomfortably despite his attempts to not let his coworker see any reaction from him. "Okay, I guess," he said. "Mom's insisting that he at least get treatments. He didn't really wanna hear any of it, but the three of us just kind of tag teamed into making him take it. He caved after a while. He's not too happy, especially with the honorable discharge coming so soon, but he'll be alright." He shrugged. "At least we get to spend more time with him."

Tony smiled. "Sounds great, Probie," he said. "Didn't you mention something about your parents' anniversary coming up?" He knocked on the door again, louder this time. "Dad. It's Tony. Open up."

Tim nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Fortieth. After all that time, Sarah and I will finally be able to set up something for them."

Tony grinned. "Ah… That's why the sister is coming over," he said with a raise of his eyebrows.

"That's my baby sister you're talking about, Tony," Tim narrowed his eyes.

Tony knocked absentmindedly. "She's twenty-four, McGee," he teased.

"And you're forty-two. You got to admit that what you said sounded weird, even from you," Tim quipped.

Tony kept on grinning. There wasn't any seriousness in what he implied. He knew his boundaries. Still, it didn't change the value of entertainment that came from joking around with the younger man.

They stood in relative silence for a few seconds before Tony knocked again. "What is he doing in there?" he mumbled. "Dad. Dad, it's Tony. Open up."

An anxious expression formed in Tim's features. "Should I call?" he asked. He placed his ear on the door. "I don't hear any movement."

"Don't be such a worry wart, McSnoop," Tony said though he himself had found the inactivity unusual. "The manager at the front desk said he'd just seen him five hours ago. He probably just took something and is sleeping it off."

Tim, however, seemingly remained incognizant of anything else besides the sound in the room. He looked at Tony with a mild frown. "I didn't know your dad likes listening to R&B," he commented.

Tony's brows knitted. "He doesn't," he replied before putting an ear on the door. 

_Before you go _  
_Make this moment sweet again_  
_We won't say goodnight _  
_Until the last minute_

His hand balled into a tight fist, Tony banged on the door nervously, causing Tim to jump back due to the loud ringing in his ear and two doors across the hallway to open. "Dad. Come on. Answer the door," he half pleaded, half ordered.

Aware of how the situation was turning out, Tim said, "I'm getting the manager," and then vanished towards the elevators in an instant.

Tony began yanking on the doorknob in the hopes that it would get his father's attention. "You better be drunk in there," he said. He banged on the door once again. "Dad!"

"Can I help you?" an older man, hailing from the farthest door that opened, asked as he stood behind him, tying his cineraria robe. "Did you lose your keys?"

Tony kept on knocking and rattling the doorknob. 

_So love me_  
_Love me tonight_  
_Tomorrow was made for some_

"Tony."

Tony stepped back as the manager hurriedly slid the card to unlock the door. He brushed past the manager as he let them in and was surprised by the stark darkness inside. The curtains were parted, allowing only the tiny lights from the city to illuminate the room.

"Dad?" Tony called out in a softer tone.

His heart leapt when Tim turned on the lamp. There were no signs of his father, save for the empty glass of wine and a thin stack of letters, one neatly folded above the other in the middle of the table. The bed was empty. The closet was still full of his clothes, but they were all organized on a higher shelf.

Tony looked at Tim, who reflected the same puzzled expression he had. "Where is he?" he asked.

Tim stepped forward to give the letters to Tony, thinking that it would give them an insight to his father's whereabouts. However, he stopped when he felt his shoe squeak against the carpet that was slowly getting drenched by water. He lowered his head to see. Then, he lifted up his eyes towards Tony, only to catch a glimpse of his horrified expression as he walked towards the bathroom.

"Dad?" Tony called out.

Tim came behind Tony just before he turned on the light to the bathroom...

…and saw the bathtub overflowing with water while a foot draped over on the side.

Tony sped inside to haul the body out, his shoes crushing the soggy white pills that were scattered throughout the floor. "No. No. Dad. Dad! What did you do?"

Tim watched as Tony slipped several times to get his father out. He wanted to help, but there was no room for him to. His mind raced, bypassing the shock born from witnessing the scene he hoped never to see. He took out his phone to call for medics, though he knew that they were too late.

"Please, no. Dad. Dad. You can't do this to me!" He sat up to perform CPR but was forcefully pulled away by Tim.

"Tony. You can't—"

"Get away from me, McGee!" Tony pushed him. However, Tim's grip was strong enough that instead of tearing himself off from his grasp, his brash action only caused them to slip and fall sideways. "Let go of me! I have to save him."

Tim continued to restrain him, using all the force he had until Tony began to gradually stop resisting. "Tony, it's… I'm sorry," he told him. "I'm sorry."

Tony used his last inkling of strength to pull himself away from his grasp. He breathed heavily as he knelt down on the clear puddle, droplets of water sliding off his hair and down his face. He had only then noticed how drenched he had gotten. However, his attention was quickly taken away as he gazed upon his father's remains.

The older man's skin had wrinkled and had started to have bumps. However, most of it was covered by his favorite suit, socks, and shoes—an outfit that he seemed to have put together himself. His eyes were closed tight, but only due to his whole face being swollen. His mouth was partly open.

Tony could neither read the expression on his face nor the intentions of his act. 

_For all we know_  
_This may only be a dream_


End file.
